


Doubt

by gaygreekgladiator (ama)



Category: Spartacus Series (TV), Spartacus: Blood and Sand
Genre: Drabble, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-30
Updated: 2012-06-30
Packaged: 2017-11-08 20:34:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/447274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ama/pseuds/gaygreekgladiator
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, when he tells you that he loves you, you doubt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Doubt

Sometimes, when he tells you that he loves you, you doubt.

This happens on days when he seems exasperated by your care, or when he kisses you particularly hard after noticing another’s eyes upon you. It happens on days when he disappears from the villa for hours and cannot tell you where he has been. It happens on days when the world is dry and dusty and blisteringly hot, and he untangles himself from your embrace and turns away so that he can sleep.

Mostly, though, you believe him. How could you do otherwise? To truly believe that he does not love you is to abandon yourself, your fundamental understanding of who you are. You are a weak man in a house of gladiators, a slave in a hundred, a forgotten orphan. And you are his lover. That is all that matters. Perhaps it isn’t healthy to think like that. It certainly is not a part of being a man, and if he knew about it he might be wary, or disappointed. That doesn’t make it any less true.

Of course he loves you. You know it even when he doesn’t say it, by the gentle brush of his fingertips over your cheek at night, and the way he bends down so you can tend to a split lip or a black eye. It is in every thin smile that stretches across his face, every time he pulls you into his lap, every kiss pressed to your eyelids. You know by the soft hum of strange songs in your ear, and the mumbled words of affection that he blushes to say when anyone hears him, even you.

Once, you didn’t understand that this meant love. When he talked, for the first time, of freedom, you looked away and bit your lip to hide your disappointment, and when he demanded to know why, you said simply “I will miss you.”

He caught you by the waist and hugged you so tightly that you were almost pulled off your feet, and his low, rumbling laugh echoed in your ear.

“Foolish boy. Of course you will come with me—I love you.”

The dance of his hands across the back of your thighs was a promise, and you rested your head against his chest and knew. You loved him. He loved you.

But sometimes...


End file.
